The Rainy Day Blues

I should have known better than to get out of bed this morning. Any idiot knows that rain = movie and pizza in bed. Rain ≠ work. But glutton for punishment that I am, I rolled out from under the covers, curled my hair, stashed a banana in my purse and ran out the front door. This is where it starts to get good.

Since I'm a fashionista, I wore a skirt today. D'oh. But since I like to sleep in till approximately thirty-two minutes before my bus leaves, there was no time to change when I stepped outside to see it POURING. At least I didn't bother with shaving my legs this morning.

Next in line to ruin my day was the construction flagger, letting by three cars at a time. It took ten minutes to get through one intersection! So of course that meant that right as I pulled up to the bus stop, my bus was pulling out. Luckily, the next bus was scheduled to arrive in half an hour so I only had to stand in the rain for twenty-eight minutes. Curly hair? Poof! Gone.

I finally get to my office forty-five minutes late, freezing, and one last kick in the shins--coffee pot is empty.

So now, I'm sitting here at my desk, dreaming of a cozy afternoon in a coffee shop or a bookstore with a hot chai or a cappuccino and some Vonnegut. But guess what? I'm in Denver and there really isn't anything cozy about Denver. (Unless you want to huddle with the panhandlers.) All I can do is implore you, Downtown Boulder readers, to let me live vicariously through you, lounging in some warm, hustling bustling downtown location, frittering the day away...

Come on, give it up--where are you spending your rainy day, and with what book?

--Stacy